Chains Book Characters Novels & Stories

Now, we had to face the Guilt. "The Chain is about the cellar, isn't it?" I whispered. "It’s about every link you’ve ever worn, Emma," Nathaniel said, his eyes full of a weary compassion. "And it’s coming to pull you back into the dark." I stood up, my amber eyes fixed on the Alabaster Spire. Nine chapters left. The Crown was broken. Now, it was time to break the iron. "Let the chain come," I said, my voice a steady, sovereign resonance. "I’ve got the bolt-cutters."

I just need you to trust me. Flashing in the back of Cole’s mind an image held steady. It was a woman, with long golden hair, her skin pale and taut with youth, yet her shimmering golden eyes were ripe with wisdom. ‘A Vampire?’ ‘Forget it, Diana! Focus on the mission’ Trembling with fury, I released a deep sigh. “Fine!” I said out loud, the sound of my voice an introduction to the distant sound of footsteps trotting down the passageway behind the heath. With a sudden, shift, my soldiers and I readied our stance as the approach of our King sounded.

The chain lengthened through the wizard’s spatial magic, it seemed infinite. Frustrated to find that she had been snagged by the weapon a second time. Chiri cursed as her slow movements were unable to avoid it again. Her opponent, not waiting for her to strike first this time, threw the chain towards her. Its links looping around Chiri’s ankle she attempted to shake them off, when another ensnared her wrist. Wrenching the limb above her head painfully, she writhed against their pull. Her struggle in vain, another length of the chains was entangled around the opposite wrist.

I’ve had my suspicions from the beginning, and the more I dig into the details, the more convinced I become. Despite owning multiple businesses, the owner doesn’t show any signs of being affiliated with human-organized crime. It’s almost too clean, too perfect. There’s something else going on here, something deeper, and I’m determined to find out what. The three businesses in question—a café, a convenience store, and a donation center—don’t fit the usual mold either. They have a certain vibe to them, one that’s hard to pinpoint but impossible to ignore. There’s an unusual mix of Rogues from all species patronizing these locations, a kind of quiet, unspoken understanding among them. It’s like

She was a mess, her caramel-colored hair disheveled and her lipstick slightly smudged and messy, like a cheating lover or a woman who had just had a hot and steamy rendezvous. Stretching for her small handbag on the passenger side, she retrieved a handkerchief and wiped her lips clean before sticking it back inside the bag, retrieving the house key and zipping it close. Then she combed her hair with her fingers. She looked better now, not that anyone was looking but it made her feel more comfortable.

My wrists and ankles were still chained, my dress was ripped and dirty, my face was bruised, and I had been slowly bleeding from my wrists down Alpha Reed’s back for the past several hours. Blood rushed from my head, making me sway as I was promptly placed on my feet, but a gloved guard hurried forward and grabbed my chains, pulling me along. A large stone castle stood in the middle of the town, something I had only ever heard about in historical romance books or seen in movies. The large structure was almost magical, as if the stones had natural glitter in them, glowing under the setting sun. I had thought all castles had crumbled centuries ago and never dreamed of seeing one in person.

They sang. Every corner of the realm shimmered with rebirth. Emily was not just a queen. She was a revolution wearing a crown. They brought Dama with them, holding his little hands in theirs as he toddled between them. The boy was growing quickly — bright-eyed and curious, asking questions about everything he saw. “Why do we burn the chains, Mama?” he asked one morning, his voice high and clear. Emily knelt down and brushed a lock of hair from his face. “Because chains should never touch the skin of the innocent. We burn them so they can never hurt anyone again.”

"This is what you deserve. Our paths will never cross again." I returned to the pack with Lucien. We held another marking ceremony. He placed the moonstone necklace against my chest, held me close, and whispered in my ear, "Scarlett, no one matters more than you.." (The End)

He stretched it from his pocket over to me and brushed that end along my wrist. I snatched it back. But not nearly quick enough. That chain swung around my wrist and sealed against itself in moments. I instinctively gripped the slack in it and began frantically yanking, but despite the chain’s deceptive thinness it was surprisingly strong. Unbreakable in-fact. I’d seen one like it before. I shot him an alarmed look. “Is this Archer’s?” Archer was like a brother to Gray and, like Gray, he was a royal with mixed blood. But Archer wasn’t half Hound as Gray was.

“The files are hidden there.” Michael raised an eyebrow. “A church?” Carter smirked. “Even criminals need a place to confess.” I didn’t laugh. I had a bad feeling about this. The cathedral was empty when we arrived. Dust filled the air, sunlight streaming through the broken stained-glass windows. Carter led us toward the altar. “There’s a compartment under the floor,” he muttered, kneeling. He pried up a loose wooden panel. And there it was. A small black case.